Will You Punish Me, Professor?
by Rabblocked
Summary: College!AU. Sherlock Holmes is a new Professor at St. Barts College, fresh out of University, he's hoping to gain some extra cash working with students, however, he gets rather more than he bargains for in the form of a confident, flirty student by the name Irene Adler. Desperate to seduce the new professor, will Irene's advances have an impact
1. Sorry I'm late, Sir

Sherlock Holmes shuffled through his papers on his desk at the front of the lecture hall. He was a brand new professor at St. Barts College just hired, and just having graduated from Uni a year before. Though young, his marks had been beyond brilliant. Ingenious to be frank. He had majored in Psychology and Criminal Studies as he was interested in becoming a private investigator or something along those lines. However, he figured, being only 24, it would be good to get a bit of money under his belt before he began such a risky freelance career. Though he came from a lavish and wealthy family, to be sure, he wanted to pave his own way-if he could. And not depend on his trust fund unless it came to it.

He ran a hair through his dark locks and sighed. He was replacing a very old and beloved professor whom had just retired. He hoped the students would take to him somewhat, although, no one really ever took to him. He had classified himself, very accurately, he might add, as a high functioning sociopath. Social interaction and human contact certainly weren't his thing. No matter, he was brilliant and maybe a few, rare students, would actually learn something from his cold, indifferent approach to the field and to teaching.

He swallowed as the students finally began to file in. He felt awkward and uncertain despite his depth of knowledge in the field. However, it wasn't the field he was unsure about, it was interaction with such youths. With people. And young ones at that. He sighed and picked up the register, glancing at the names and waiting for the class to fill before beginning to take attendance.

Once it seemed that most of the students had shuffled in Sherlock began to read the names from the list.

"Right. Hello. Um, I'm Professor Holmes and I'm your new Psychology professor. Let's begin with attendance, shall we? He picked up the list and leaned against the desk lazily.

"Irene Adler?" He called. He waited a few seconds. Nothing. 'Brilliant,' he thought to himself, his first student was tardy, what a way to start the year.

He went through the list some more, "Molly Hooper?" A sheepish, mousy-haired girl seated towards the front of the class rose her hand.

He continued down the list of names finally reaching the 'M' section, "Kate Miller?" He called. An attractive, young, redhead rose her hand confidently. "Here."

Sherlock swallowed, "Right, thanks."

Irene Adler opened the door to her Psychology classroom, a cup of Starbucks frappucino in hand. She was always late to class, priding herself on her ability to wrap every professor, either male or female, around her little finger. Her psychology teacher had a sweet spot for her which she played off of massively, a charming smile and a lusty stare would get her out of any trouble. As she opened the door she noticed not her old, middle aged professor, but rather a young, vibrant, if distant professor, and certainly a good looking one. She smiled her signature, gorgeous yet confident smile. "Sorry, I'm late Sir." She purred, walking to her usual spot next to Kate.

Sherlock did a double take as a very attractive, dark-haired young woman quickly entered the classroom. He quickly got the better of himself, furrowing his brow as his temper rose. "Excuse me? And who are you? You're late you know? And it's not 'Sir.' I'm Professor to you." He spit, his nostrils flaring.

Irene raised an eyebrow as she seated herself, sipping her coffee. Normally her winning smile was more than enough to satiate an angry professor. "Apologies 'Professor.' But I believe everyone to be Sir until I know their name." She said, somewhat cheekily. "I'm Irene Adler." She responded, holding out her hand with a smirk, knowing he wouldn't take it.

Sherlock glared at her hand, ignoring it. "You're very late, Miss Adler. Seven minutes to be precise. Take a seat. We'll talk after class." He hissed.

She took back her hand. "Sounds ominous." She said to Kate with a smirk as she sat lazily in her seat, not bothering to pull out any books. She always deemed psychology as a bit of a joke. She already knew how people thought, how they acted, and why they acted as such.

Sherlock was nervous as he began his lecture, his voice shakier and more clipped than he would have liked. As the hour progressed, however, he soon fell into his element and his confidence, stature, and presentation rose. He went through the syllabus with them, explaining the various mental illness they would be covering. The ever popular Manic-Depressive, or 'Bipolar' disorder would be first. Sherlock had decided to start the year off with a bang, and there was no better disease than that to begin with. He went through the rest of the planned year, before giving the floor to students for any questions. There were only one or two. For some reason the class seemed to be very pulled back from him. He frowned, certainly he wasn't that intimidating or scary? "Whatever," he thought to himself.

"Class dismissed. Miss Adler, please remain behind." He ordered, glancing at her before sitting down at his desk to file through some papers.

Irene rolled her eyes at Kate and promised to meet her afterwards. She grabbed her bag and discarded the Starbucks cup before stalking confidently towards his desk, her heels clicking with every step. She perched on the edge. "Yes, Professor Holmes?" She asked sweetly, her blue eyes big and deer-like, seemingly innocent.

Sherlock swallowed as he witnessed her take such a...familiar stance with him. How dare she sit on his desk? That was highly inappropriate behaviour for a student to a professor.

"Get off my desk." He spat.

A look of almost...annoyance flashed across her eyes. She was not used to people not succumbing to her advances. She reluctantly relinquished her stance on his desk but instead leaned against it, her eyes narrowing, hardening slightly to steely confidence instead of coy innocence. Maybe he liked a woman who could take control? That certainly was Irene's forte.

"For being late, I'll need you to take a detention. Such behaviour is not acceptable in my class. Meet me here at 7:00 pm this evening. And if you're late, Miss Adler, you will bare the consequences." He hissed, standing up quickly and taking his notes and briefcase before quickly exiting the classroom.

Irene froze as the new professor brushed past her. He brushed past her. Without even a glance back. She exhaled as her face became cold and steely. No one ever brushed past Irene Adler. She hitched her bag over her shoulder and stalked out of the room. Mr Holmes would regret this. Oh, he would regret it completely.


	2. Detention

Later that evening, Irene was facing her wardrobe in her apartment, Kate lounging on her bed. "He's such a frigid prick." Irene told Kate. "I mean I did the whole lusty, 'Oh I'm so sorry sir.' facade and he barely looked at me. Is he a unic or something?" She huffed.

Kate shrugged, "Who knows. He certainly isn't your standard Professor, however. Though you must admit, he is rather fetching." She laid back on the bed with a sigh.

Irene nodded. "Maybe he's gay, that would explain a lot." She said before reaching into her wardrobe. "Either way, I am determined to find out tonight. What do we think of the hot librarian look?" She asked, pulling out a blouse and pencil skirt. "Maybe give him something to relate to, like a professor."

Kate eyed the outfit lustfully, "Works for me." She breathed.

"Everything works on you." Irene said with a wink. "Right, hot librarian it is. Now, I'm going to get undressed. Keep your hands to yourself and try not to distract me." She said sternly as she started to undress.

Kate sighed looking away, honestly, it was extremely frustrating and confusing to be hooking up randomly with your best friend. She wasn't sure how she felt about all of this. Still, she relented and decided to have a little fun herself. "Irene." She said suddenly.

"Yes?" Irene asked, attaching a new pair of stockings. She looked at Kate curiously, there strange relationship between best friend and fuck buddy didn't bother her at all.

"I have a dare for you." She continued, a small smile on her lips.

"Well you know how much I _love_ dares." Irene said with a mischievous grin as she pulled on the pencil skirt.

Kate rolled her eyes, "I dare you to seduce our new Professor." She said point blank.

"Oh God, yes." Irene's grin grew and she laughed. "Perfect. Oh I will have so much fun with this." She said excitedly as she grabbed the shirt and pulled it on. She buttoned it up and tucked it in before undoing an extremely inappropriate amount of buttons, her chest barely concealed.

Kate sighed, "Honestly Irene, it's not fair." She pouted. "Well, have fun."

Irene walked over to the mirror and twisted her hair up into a bun before adding a pair of fake glasses and putting them on the edge of her nose. She slipped on a pair of heels. "Do I look like I could seduce a professor?" She asked, turning around.

Kate eyed her, "Fuck, yes." She breathed. "Now please leave, before I jump you myself."

Irene chuckled, "I'll see you later, dear. Maybe you'll get luckier than the professor." She said suggestively before walking out of the apartment and towards the college.

Sherlock was seated at his desk reading through a chapter of a book he had assigned them for the coming week, Kay Redfield's _An Unquiet Mind_. She was a brilliant psychiatrist who was the head of the mood disorder center at Johns Hopkins in America. What separated her from most doctors that studied the disease, was that she herself, suffered from it titanically. Almost having killed herself several times and going on immense manic episodes for months, her story and study of the illness seemed the perfect introduction to what was one of the most popular and overly misunderstood mental illness that existed.

He sighed, and checked his watch. She had 3 minutes. He swallowed at the thought of being alone with another human being, let alone one of his students, and a firecracker at that. He inhaled deeply, doing his best to assume an air of authority and power, though in truth they were only six years apart in age.

Irene checked her watch. She was on time, for once. She winked at one of the other professors in the hallway who was looking at her, his jaw literally dropped. She grinned to herself, Professor Holmes would have to be gay not to react from this. She knocked on the door and opened it, walking in confidently, letting him see her entire outfit. "Where do you want me, Professor Holmes?" She asked innocently.

Sherlock glanced up from the book and jerked his knee up, banging it hard against the desk in utter shock and...well, something else. He swallowed, rubbing his knee under the desk before doing his best to gain his composure.  
"Miss Adler, that's hardly an appropriate outfit. Please go home and change, at once."

Irene had the satisfaction of watching his reaction to her. Definitely not gay. She stalked towards him slowly, a fire burning behind her eyes. She stood in front of his desk and leaned down slightly, causing her blouse to gape a little. "Oh, I have a lot worse at home, Professor." She purred seductively. "And I can't go there right now, I forgot my key." She lied.

Sherlock's nostrils flared, "Go sit down." He said darkly, his eyes glancing at her heaving bosoms briefly.

She caught his line of sight and smirked briefly, noting that he did not tell her _where_ to sit. She straightened up before walking over to his side of the desk and sitting atop it in front of him, her position revealing a lot of her stockinged legs.

He gulped, hard, glancing at her thighs before tearing his gaze away to look into her eyes. "Miss Adler. Get off my desk right now, or I will inform the principle of your misbehaviour."

She quirked an eyebrow and leaned down again. "It's what I do, Mr Holmes." She said, dropping the professor to make them on more of an equal level. "I misbehave." She purred.

Sherlock stood up quickly, his temper flaming. Unfortunately, he failed to realise that doing so put him exactly in the middle of her thighs. He glanced down, his eyes widening in panic and arousal. He looked back at her. "Miss Adler, if you do not show me the proper amount of respect I deserve, and refuse to behave in a professional student to teacher manner, I will bring in the authorities." He threatened lowly.

Irene noticed the slight dilation of his pupils as he put himself directly in front of her. She leaned forward slightly so their faces were mere inches apart. "Respect is to be earned, Professor." She breathed, her gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips as her own tugged up into a smirk. "And feel free to pull away at any moment, if this is so inappropriate."

He huffed, livid and confused. His face twisted in resentment as he struggled to think of a response. He licked his lips, leaning forward so that hers were only moments from his, "Get. Off." He hissed.

"Are you offering?" She asked bluntly, her lips brushing against his as she spoke, she knew how much he wanted her, could see it plain in his eyes. But she had an inkling that it would not be that easy, which made her only want it even more.

He narrowed his eyes before slamming his fist against the desk as he felt her lips touch his. "Do not make me remove you myself!"

She wasn't fazed by either the noise or the reverberations from his fist, anger was an intense emotion, she could work with anger. "Go on then _professor_." She purred seductively. "Any excuse to touch me." She said, her lips curling into a smirk.

His nose wrinkled as he quickly grabbed her to him, her legs wrapping around his waist, despite his efforts to keep them from doing so. He got out from behind the desk before grabbing them and forcing them off of him. She slid down much too slowly and much too closely against his body for his liking. He stared down at her. "I'll have you expelled, if you aren't careful." He spat.

"Oh, I do like a man who get's authoritative." She breathed, her body flat against his. "Next you'll be telling me that you'll punish me." She said with a lusty wink.

He could feel his arousal start to grow, it twitching against his trousers. He quickly stepped away, grabbing his things before turning back towards her. "That's it for tonight, Miss Adler. But be sure, you will be in _very_ deep trouble come tomorrow." He hissed, brushing past her for the second time in one day.

Before he had chance to leave she turned and called after him. "Oh, by the way. If you get the principal involved then you can be rest assured that I will not fail to mention the fact that I gave you an erection. Good night, Mr Holmes." She said with a sweet smile, sitting back on his desk.

Sherlock froze, his head turning to the side slightly, "We'll discuss this tomorrow." He spat needing to get the hell out of her sight.

**She smirked to herself, knowing that he wouldn't get the principle involved, what had just transpired was rather damning for him, besides it was obvious how much he wanted her. She chuckled softly before hopping off the desk, something catching her eye on it. A mobile phone. She grinned wickedly, oh this was just perfect. She pocketed the phone before walking out of the college and back to her flat.**


	3. In-Class Disruption

Sherlock sighed as he watched his students file in. He swallowed keeping his eye down not wanting to make eye contact with her. Last night's events had been inexcusable to say the least. He closed his eyes brushing the memory away.

Irene walked into the room, Starbucks coffee in hand. She smirked as Sherlock avoided looking at her, flashing a wink at Kate before abandoning her usual seat at the back in favour of one in front of his desk, unfortunately this placed her next to Molly Hooper who annoyed her by constantly answering questions. When she was seated, she casually slipped his phone back into his desk. Last night she had gotten his number and programmed her own into It before setting up a very personalised ringtone for herself. One that would shock him to the core. She gazed up at him with a challenging smirk.

Sherlock sighed before grabbing the restigar. God, why did her name have to be first? He cursed. "Irene Adler?" He asked, glancing around the room trying his best to look indifferent and bored.

"Here, Professor." She said confidently, her voice sounding slightly husky as a slow smirk spread across her lips, gaining herself quite a few looks from fellow classmates. She couldn't help herself though, not when she knew exactly what she had in store for him this lesson.

Sherlock glanced at her quickly, turning slightly red at her tone and look. He averted his gaze and continued down the list of names. Once he was done he cleared his throat, "Right, well I trust you all read the intro to Redfield's book as well as the first chapter on Bipolar Disorder in the textbook. Starting off simply, can someone please give me, in their own words the definition of bipolar disorder?" His eyes glanced around the seemingly terrified-looking class. He rolled his eyes. Honestly, it was a simple, elementary question. Surely his tone wasn't that intimidating?

Irene glanced around the class, even Molly Hooper was at a loss for words, seriously, what about this professor seemed to make everyone so stricken? She raised her own hand lazily to offer her definition of Bipolar Disorder.

He leaned against his desk lazily and sighed, "Yes, Miss Adler?" He pressed, doing his best to look disinterested.

She pretended to yawn, matching his own seeming disinterest. "Bipolar disorder is a psychiatric diagnosis for a mood disorder. Individuals with bipolar disorder experience episodes of a frenzied state known as mania often alternating with episodes of depression. At the lower levels of mania, one can appear appear energetic and excitable and can be highly productive. At a higher level, individuals begin to behave erratically and impulsively, often making poor decisions due to unrealistic ideas about the future, and may have great difficulty with sleep. At the highest level, individuals can experience very distorted beliefs about the world known as psychosis. Individuals who experience manic episodes also commonly experience depressive episodes; some experience a mixed state in which features of both mania and depression are present at the same time. Manic and depressive episodes typically last from a few days to several months and can be interspersed by periods of 'normal' moods." She told him her basic, text book summary before leaning back in her seat.

Sherlocked eyed her suspiciously, "Very good, Miss Adler. I see you actually read the chapter." He glanced around at the rest of the class. He leaned up, "Now, can you tell me, the difference between Bipolar I and Bipolar II disorder?" He challenged.

Irene smirked again, this was going to be fun. She sat up more in her seat. "Bipolar I, represents a manic state in which you can hallucinate, occasionally causing psychosis, or voices in your head. Whereas Bipolar II, represents a hypomanic state where the sufferer acts on impulses, sometimes acting out of character but does not experience psychosis or hallucinations." She told him, echoing his challenging gaze.

He narrowed his eyes at her. Had she read ahead, or was she just that clever. He wasn't sure. He swallowed. "Well done, Miss Adler." He said offhandedly. He glanced around at the rest of the class, "Does that makes sense to everyone?" He asked lowly.

She smirked at his praise, it was obvious that he hadn't expected that. Many people made the mistake of thinking that Irene was just someone pretty to look at, someone who got by on her looks. They were so very wrong, however. Yes, she was beautiful but she was also smart, calculating, and yes, granted, a little cold. She always got what she wanted. And she was determined to get him. She looked around the class at the slightly shocked faces of her classmates and then back at Kate who had a bemused expression on her face.

Sherlock moved on, continuing his lecture on the disease. In the back of his brain, however, he couldn't help but obsess about her, slightly. She was much, much smarter than he had given her credit for. It unnerved him somewhat. Their age difference being so small in the big picture. Perhaps he should have chosen secondary school instead. Sod it. It was too late now. He discussed the introduction to Redfield's book and asked the class their opinions on her point of view. The class was alarmingly dull, or perhaps he was just too brilliant. He sighed as he casually sat on the corner of his desk, just having asked a question that no one seemed willing to answer. There was a lull of silence that echoed through the room. Thank God there were only 20 minutes left, he thought to himself after having glanced at the clock. He waited, daring someone, anyone to speak.

Irene had resigned herself to not answer any more questions. After all she wasn't a nose browner or a nerd. With a smirk, she noticed how the class lulled into a sleepy silence. Perfect, she thought to herself. She pulled out her phone surreptitiously and sent a text to Sherlock. "Good Morning, Mr Holmes, sleep well? IA"

Out of the blue a deep and lusty moan suddenly filled the air. Sherlock whipped his head from side to side, eyeing the class, bewildered and annoyed. "Who-who was that?" He asked, his eyes raking the class with fury. He glanced at Irene, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

Irene looked at him innocently, plastering a slightly bewildered look on her face.

Molly had flushed a deep red at the noise. "I-I think it was your phone, Professor." She squeaked, gesturing to a phone on Sherlocks desk which had lit up.

Sherlock furrowed his brow at her before glancing at the desk. He hadn't even realised he had had his phone on it. Had he even brought it home? He shook his head, picking it up and reading the text that had been sent to him. He glared at it, livid, before turning his eyes up to meet Irene's. How dare she do such a thing. The noise was obviously a sexual one, and not a very indiscreet one at that. Talk about inappropriate! He closed his eyes, willing himself to regain control. He put his phone on silence pocketed and swallowed. "Excuse me." He mumbled.

She bit her lip to hide a smirk as she heard the class mutter amongst themselves, everyone's faces were shocked and there were so many giggles running through the class, mostly from the females. That had definitely gone as planned, she thought to herself smugly.

Sherlock fumed as the class clearly was snickering and making fun of him. He turned red and proceeded to race through the rest of the material. His temper was even more irritable and distant than ever. Finally there was shuffling in the hallways as the other classes were being let out. He told them their homework before crossing to his desk to sit. He kept his eyes downcast on the papers in front of him.

Irene packed away her things and paused only to wink at him as he caught her eye contact. She then turned and stalked out of the classroom, listening to the giggles and exclamations of the other students as they got out of the classroom.

He glared at her briefly before tearing his eyes away and returning them to the documents at hand. As soon as the class had left. He closed his eyes, sighed, and leaned back into his chair. He pulled out his phone, and hesitated, before switching it's sound back on. He bit his lip, wondering if it was wise. However, in that moment, he didn't care. He let it be. And returned to the papers he was grading.

As she walked with Kate to their next class, the other gushing at Irene's blatant move with the phone, though 'The Woman' was barely listening. After a seconds thought she pulled her phone out again. "Now will you punish me, Professor Holmes? IA" She sent it as a sly grin spread across her face.

Sherlock heard his phone moan and closed his eyes with a sigh as he pulled it out and read her text. He paused for a moment. He bit his lip before pocketing the phone again and continuing his work. It was going to be a very long year.


	4. A Lecture at Home

A few hours later, Irene and Kate were seated at the back of their History class, talking about the infamous Psychology lesson. "Did you see his face when I texted him, though? Classic." Irene grinned devilishly.

Kate giggled darkly. "God, he was mortified. And definitely turned on. Poor man. He's probably a virgin." She joked.

"Oh God, I hope not." Irene laughed. "Although it would explain why it's taking him so long to succumb...I mean, he got an erection last night." She admitted with a wry grin.

"No he didn't?!" Kate exclaimed quietly. "Are you sure?"

Irene nodded. "I was on his desk, being all seductive in my outfit," She began with a grin, "and he stood up to remove me, which put him right between my legs, and he sort of grabbed me to get me off the desk, and I wrapped my legs around his hips and slid down him. I mean, my body was pressed flat against him when I stood up. I could feel everything. So yes, I'm sure." She grinned triumphantly.

Kate gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "Jesus, Irene, you're either going to get expelled or get him fired. Careful, dear. But please, do have fun with him. He looks like he needs it."

Irene rolled her eyes. "You know I won't get expelled, and he'd only get fired if we got caught." She pointed out with a chuckle. "And he definitely needs it. Serious planning will be needed."

Kate nodded slowly, "So, what are you going to do next?" She asked her friend curiously.

Irene pursed her lips as she mused over this for a while. "I think it's time to up the ante as it were. I'm going to sneak into the secretary's office and get his address and then just 'appear' in his bed." She grinned.

The redhead's eyes widened as she heard Irene's plan, "Oh you are so bad!" She cried.

"That's what people love about me." She winked at her best friend.

Kate merely rolled her eyes, though she knew it was true.

Later that evening, after Irene had managed to sneak into the secretaries office, hack into the computer, and gain her dear professor's personal details from the database, she spent a good amount of time at her flat, deciding what to wear, when a thought hit her. A wicked thought.

Having decided to remain in her earlier clothes, she finally made her way over to his place, which was thankfully, quite close. She surveyed the building before spotting a fire escape at the back and scaling up it. She calculated the floors and flat numbers before finding what had to be one of his windows and snuck through it, silently thanking him for being so polite as to have left it open for her.

She quickly dropped her clothes before walking to his wardrobe, pulling out a deep, purple shirt and shrugged it on, buttoning it up loosely. She then rummaged through his draws before finding a very tight pair of black boxer-briefs. She pulled them on and appraised her reflection. She looked definitely looked good in his clothes. She un-pinned her hair and shook out her curls, ruffling them slightly before lounging lazily on the bed, waiting for him to come home.

Sherlock arrived home to his flat sighing as he shut the door and locked it. He threw his briefcase on a nearby chair before crossing to the liquor cabinet to pour himself a double shot of whiskey. It had been a very long and exhausting day and he looked forward to getting a bit drunk and watching some shit telly. He ran a hand through his hair before downing the drink, pouring another, and sitting down on the sofa. He unbuttoned a first few buttons of his shirt, before yanking off his tie and throwing to the side. He grabbed the remote, turned the telly on and leaned back.

Irene smirked as she heard him come in. Now or never, she thought to herself, as she pulled out her phone and quickly texted him, Honey, I'm home. IA

He heard his phone moan and frowned. What on earth does she want now?, he wondered. He read the message and frowned even more deeply. What the bloody hell does she mean by 'home?' He swallowed, putting the phone down, choosing to ignore it. He took another sip of his drink and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

She rolled her eyes as she waited a few more moments. Really, he was supposed to be smart. Aren't you going to come and say hello? IA"

Sherlock checked his phone again and clenched his jaw in irritation, before tossing it further away from him on the couch, choosing not to bother with it anymore. He finished his drink, took off his shoes and leaned back, closing his eyes in a moment of silent pleasure.

She sighed and got up off the bed before silently creeping down the stairs and gazed at him, unseen. Nice chest. IA

Sighing heavily as he heard his phone moan again, Sherlock waited a moment before reluctantly picking it up. He furrowed his brow at the message. How did she know his chest was exposed? He glanced around his flat, a creeping sensation of invasion slowly hitting him. He swallowed, listening intently for any misplaced sounds.

Irene smirked to herself as she crept back up the stairs, deliberately hitting a weak spot on one of the stairs, causing it to creak, before heading back to lounge on his bed. Come and play, Professor. IA

Sherlock heard the moan of two floorboards rubbing against each other. He furrowed his brows in confusion and dread and slowly got up. He made his way up the stairs to his bedroom cautiously, peering around the corner of the landing as he made his way up. He paused, listening again. Nothing. He frowned and continued up the stairs.

She grinned like a cheshire cat as she heard him ascend to the upper level of his flat, positioning herself the bed, to offer up her best angles and attributes-sexy, yet relaxed.

He made his way up the final set of stairs and walked into his bedroom his ears and eyes alert and on the prowl. Though it was dark, he could still feel the presence of another body sharing the space with him.

"Who are you?" He said calmly and matter-of-factly.

"Take a guess, Professor." Irene purred with a grin, wondering exactly what his face looked like in that moment.

Sherlock swallowed and shut his eyes. Fuck!, he thought to himself, before swallowing his panic and nerves down to resume his usual mask of ice.

"And how did you find my address, Miss Adler?" He asked through gritted teeth, knowing that he needed to remain as calm and as cool as he could. She clearly responded to his temper, and showing indifference seemed to be the only reasonable option to get him out of this situation safely.

"The secretary's office really should update their security system. It's far too easy to hack. I got it from the school database, you see." She grinned. "Aren't you going to turn the light on...Not that I mind being in the dark." She said suggestively.

He took a step inside the room, biting his cheek. "I see, I'll have to inform them of that fact." He hissed. "Now, please, Miss Adler, kindly remove yourself from my bed and leave my residency immediately! This has gone on far enough and I am not willing to play this little game you think we have going on any more." He spat.

Irene sighed softly, how dull. "Can you at least turn on the light then, so I can see where I am going." She asked, feigning innocence.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, feeling the wall for the lightswitch. He turned it on, blinking at the brightness, his pupils adjusting slowly.

She waited patiently on the bed for his eyes to register, a hint of a smirk on her face.

He blinked a few times before letting his eyes rest on her form. He started. She was clad in his favourite purple button down and a pair of his black boxer-briefs. He swallowed and clenched his jaw, feeling his loins stir at the arousing sight before him. "Where. Are. Your. Clothes?" He growled.

"On the floor somewhere." She waved a hand dismissively over to a pile of clothes near the window, her knickers on top. "These are much more comfortable." She commented, stretching her back and pushing her chest forwards, causing the buttons to strain.

He flared his nostrils. That was the final straw. "Miss Adler, get dressed. NOW!" He ordered.

She rolled her eyes playfully and sat up. "Fine." She said as she began to unbutton the shirt in front of him.

He shook his head bewildered and furious with her new bold mood, quickly stepping out of the doorframe before stopping to turn back to her defiantly, "I don't know what little affair you had with your old professor, Miss Adler, but I can assure you it will not be continued with me. Cease your 'seduction' and get out of my flat!" He hissed lowly.

Irene halted her actions as she stepped off the bed, stalking forward towards him until she was just in front of him. She thought a moment, deciding to change tactics. "I didn't have an affair with my old professor." She told him truthfully. "Or any of the others." That one being a bit of a lie, though.

She leaned in so that her barely concealed chest was pressed against his. "I just want you." She breathed, her voice sultry.

He glared at her, his eyes narrowing, before swallowing down the lust that couldn't help but swell in his body. He felt his loins stir, and took a deep breath. "Get. Away. From. Me" He hissed through his teeth.

"It's not so wrong, you know." She whispered, her breath washing over his face and she reached a hand to stroke his curls. "It's only six years difference." She breathed, her face soft.

For a millisecond his mind considered her words, before quickly and surely dismissing them. "I am your professor and you are my student. That is and ever will be our only relationship. I cannot help your...attraction to me...but I can ask you to please respect that fact that I do not feel the same for you, cannot feel the same for you, and refuse to feel the same for you." He said darkly, stepping away from her.

She countered his move, stepping with him before moving her hand to cup his jaw. She leaned in closer to him and searching his face. "Do you feel nothing for me, Mr Holmes?" She asked softly, her lips brushing against his lightly. "Is there not even a small part of you that is tempted?"

Sherlock closed his eyes and swallowed, the feel of her so close, of her lips against his was intoxicating, he remained in control, however. Too much was at stake. "It's Professor Holmes to you." He hissed, "And, NO!"

Irene paused a moment, while his tone was convincing his body language was not. She didn't believe his words, after all, he had neither moved away or moved her away. "We're not in college here. Here it's you and me. Irene and Sherlock. Miss Adler and Mr Holmes." She said softly, stroking her thumb across his cheekbone. Whilst her harsher and more forward approach got him aroused, she had a feeling that a softer approach would cause his resolve to waver more.

He closed his eyes bringing his hand up to cup hers, "St-stop it." He fumbled, cursing himself silently.

She smiled softly, cheering internally. She leaned forward so her lips were brushing his again and a thought crossed her. Going straight to sex would obviously not work. His stupid self-control. She went with a lighter approach. "Have dinner with me?" She asked softly. "With me. Irene Adler. Not your student."

"I-I can't...I don't want to." He said quickly, brushing past her.

She caught his hand as he pushed past her. "Just dinner. That's all I'm asking for. Just me and you. Get to know me, you might like what you find." She said with a smile.

He pulled his hand away, "I...can't." He swallowed, looking down.

She stepped towards him and tilted his chin up with her finger. "One dinner. One time. I won't tell anyone and no one has to know. If you can tell me honestly by the end of it that you're not interested, I'll respect your decision." She promised him. God, she hoped this would work. She was not about to lose a dare.

Sherlock bit his lip. "F-f-fine. But it has to be here, and extremely discreet." He relented, loathing himself for being so easy and giving in to her advances all of a sudden.

She smiled brightly at him. "Great. And I can agree to those conditions." She said, reluctantly releasing his chin.

"Please...Leave." He begged.

She smirked slightly but nodded, relenting. She grabbed her coat and put it on, keeping his clothes on. She scooped up her own set and sat on the edge of the window. "Text me." She said with a wink before falling back and catching herself on the fire escape, scampering off into the night.

Sherlock cursed himself as he sat down on the bed and willed his body to regain self control. He sighed, running a hand through his dark, raven locks before throwing the rest of his body on the bed. He closed his eyes at the image of her running through the night to her flat in his shirt and pants. "Fuck." He sighed, reaching down to unzip his trousers, unable to stop himself.


	5. Personal Tutor

Irene had a triumphant grin on her face as she walked back to her flat. She

was one step closer to having Sherlock Holmes. She chuckled to herself and walked into her flat. "Kate, are you here?" She called.

Kate heard her flatmate and good friend enter and closed the textbook she was trying her best to read before rolling off of her bed, and entering the living space, wearing only a white t-shirt and kickers, "So, what happened?" She asked, leaning in the doorway coquettishly.

Irene took off her coat, showing her the half buttoned shirt and briefs. "I changed tact and managed to get a date." She winked, eyes raking over Kate darkly.

Kate raised a brow, "Oh? And what did you do differently? Nice outfit by the way, suits you." She murmured, walking slowly over to Irene as she eyed her lustfully.

"Thank you, dear." Irene smirked. "I quite like it." She smoothed her hands over the silky fabric of the purple shirt. "And it was obvious that he wanted me. However, he has too many...morals; He would never have given in to a quick shag."

This, secretly thrilled Irene however, for she wanted to draw this out for as long as possible; manipulate him and have her fun. "So instead, I told him I wanted him and only him; did the soft approach and managed to convince him to have dinner with me in his flat; told him that if, by the end of the evening, he didn't want me. I'd stop pestering him." She grinned triumphantly. "Make him fall for my brains and dazzling personality."

"Well, that certainly won't be hard. Poor lad has no idea what he's in for. In the meantime, however, care to convince me?" She winked at her friend knowingly, reaching out for her hand.

Irene chuckled softly as she took Kate's hand and stepped forward. "What are you interested in, my brains, my personality, or a quick shag?" She winked.

Kate couldn't help but blush, "Well, the entire list, really, but let's settle on the latter for now." She murmured, pulling Irene in to the bedroom.

"Best idea I've heard all day." Irene chuckled as Kate pulled her towards the bedroom.

Sherlock paced his flat as he ran his hand through his hair. He had invited her over at 7:30 pm, early enough to keep it platonic and professional but late enough that she wouldn't complain that it 'wasn't in the date window.' He had made chicken, some roasted vegetables, and brown, wild rice. He was a healthy eater—when he actually ate—and figured with her thin figure, she was as well. He checked his watch, 7:26 pm. He sighed and turned on his favourite Mozart piano concerto, Nos. 15, keeping the volume low. He had a single candle on the table, which was positioned in front of his ceiling-to-floor windows on the west side of the apartment. He figured a little romance would shut her up. At least, he prayed it would.

He was nervous to meet her; despite his chagrin at admitting it. The events of the previous week had been disarming to say the least. He had never been interested in the opposite sex for anything other than mere conversation and forced interaction. Not that he was gay or asexual, he was definitely straight, if anything, but he merely had no inclination towards sex or pleasures of the flesh. It was fleeting moments of ecstasy that he could get from a fag or a hit of cocaine. Why bother with the courting and the disgusting romantic aspect when he could easily call his dealer for a vial? Still, he was nervous, for some reason. And he loathed himself for it.

Irene had spent ages making sure she looked perfect. She had gone for an attractive, yet classy black dress and had pinned her hair up as usual. She had gone for natural looking makeup to boot. She figured that she'd try and make herself look as... relatable as possible. Plus she looked older than she was in the outfit, which she figured could only aid her in achieving her goal. She had grabbed a bottle of red wine seeing as it was an actual date and was now on her way to his flat. She had butterflies in her stomach which completely confused her. Since when did she ever get nervous? Plus, this date was only a means to an end, empirical for her goals and objectives. A checkpoint of sorts. She sighed to herself and shook her head willing herself to get 'in the zone' before knocking on the door.

Sherlock heard the light knock and groaned darkly to himself. He crossed downstairs and opened the door slowly, "Miss Adler." He said stiffly eyeing her seductive dress and the bottle of red wine she was clutching.

"Mr Holmes." She said with a smirk. She held out the bottle to him. "Present." She

grinned.

He took it reluctantly, "Thank you, but I don't really drink. And nor should you." He added, stepping aside to let her in.

"Yes, because me drinking is the worst thing out of this." She rolled her eyes as she walked in. "Nice place. Didn't see it properly last time I was here." She added with a wink.

He sighed wearily, "Right. Well, dinner is ready and back through here. He said, leaving the wine on the kitchen counter and showing her to the table he had set up by the windows. "Please." He murmured, pulling out a chair for her.

"How gentlemanly of you." She smiled, sitting down in the chair. "Thank you."

Sherlock stiffened slightly, "Don't mention it." He muttered before crossing over to his chair and sitting down himself, placing his napkin in his lap with an air of snobbish nobility.

She did the same and looked down at their meal. "So you cook?" She asked, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the glass of water that was with her meal.

He nodded, "Yes. Not often. But I can."

She nodded slowly in amusement before picking up her knife and fork. She looked

up at him trying to gauge his mood. "I finished the textbook." She murmured softly to him as she took a delicate bite of the chicken breast. "Rest of the course looks quite fascinating."

He glanced up at her, his brow furrowing in confusion and disarmed shock, "Y-you finished the textbook?"

"That's what I said." She answered, nibbling on another piece of chicken. "I was

bored."

Sherlock glanced down and swallowed, doing his best to regain his composure and usual indifferent and unimpressed persona, "I see. Well, I'm glad you're...excited for the coming year." He murmured.

"Are you a sociopath?" She asked him bluntly and suddenly.

He nearly dropped his fork, "S-sorry?"

"It's a simple enough question. Are you a sociopath?" She repeated, slowly.

"Most people say psychopath." He muttered sardonically, taking a bite and chewing harshly.

"Most people are wrong." She said simply. "You show signs of having a personality disorder marked by anti-social behaviour, however, it doesn't seem to have manifested into anything that links to psychopathy and your temperament seems to be rather stable." She observed casually, batting her eyelids slightly.

Sherlock finished his chicken and placed his fork down on his plate, no longer hungry for the rest of his meal. He leaned back in his chair and studied her, impressed and, to be honest, slightly taken aback. "Very good, Miss Adler. Gold star for sure." He replied sarcastically, his hand twitching at the sudden and immediate craving and need for a hit of coke, nicotine would have to suffice for now, however.

"Care for a fag?" He asked quickly.

She studied him for a moment. "Sure. I do have a bit of an oral fixation." She winked at him as she put her own knife and fork down.

Sherlock stood up quickly and crossed to his kitchen cabinet where he kept his carton of Dunhills. He pulled out a fresh set and packed them against his palm as he walked over to her. He opened the pack up, pulled the foil out, and took one out turning around so that it's head was facing up before placing back in its row with its siblings. It was his lucky strike, something he always did with every pack he bought and that had been instilled in him since boarding school. he huffed slightly as he pulled two other fags out, always saving the lucky one to smoke last, and handed one to her politely. He then reached into his pocket for his white lighter.

"Here, come." He said, walking her over to the patio and opening the door to allow the fresh fall air to sweep through the living room. He lit his cig, inhaling deeply and exhaling it slowly through his lips before placing it back in his mouth and leaning over to light hers using the tip of his lit one.

She followed him out and put the cig in her mouth, leaning across as he did so he could light hers. She inhaled expertly before exhaling slowly, barely moving away from him so the smoke blew in his direction.

Sherlock glared at her before turning out to the horizon and leaning against the railing, lazily taking drags of his fag and flicking it occasionally. He ran his left hand through his hair absentmindedly.

Irene also leaned forward onto the railing but a little way away from him, cigarette dangling at her lips before she took another long drag.

He stole a glance at her right as she was inhaling and swallowed. Fuck that's hot. He couldn't help but observe to himself. He almost dropped his own cig in the process of watching her. He quickly shook his head and tore his gaze away to look forward, taking a long drag himself and closing his eyes as he felt the expensive nicotine flow through his veins.

"So, you're a man who likes the good stuff?" She asked after taking another drag of her cigarette. She turned so her back was leaning on the railing.

He looked at her, "Yes. My taste is lavish as was my upbringing." He replied coolly.

"I like a man with good taste." She said, looking forward thoughtfully.

Sherlock merely glared at her, "Too bad I'm not in the running." He retorted flatly.

"Well, this is our first date." She turned to smirk at him before waving her hand noncommittally. "I wasn't suggesting anything anyway." She decided playing diplomat would be best.

He eyed her; unsure of what exactly she meant, but hoping she was seeing reason, "Good. I'm glad we're finally on the same page." He responded, taking a final drag of his cig before flicking it over the edge and turning around so that his back was to the railing, his elbows perching on it lightly. He looked around the patio, bored and wondering what on earth was going to happen next.

She stubbed out her own cigarette and flicked it over the railing before taking a step towards him, her leg between his. "I've seen every page. Pick one and we can stick to it." She said with a small smirk.

He swallowed as he felt her body press against his, "Miss Adler...step back." He hissed, although his hands went to her hips.

"You didn't answer my question." She pointed out, resting her hands flat against his chest.

He tried to push her back, but it was a half-assed effort at best. "Wh-what was your question?" He stuttered.

She didn't even move an inch, smiling slightly at how pathetic his attempt was. She leaned a little further forward. "You say we're on the same page. Which page? Do you even know which page we're on anymore?" She asked intensely, searching his eyes.

His lips twitched as he felt his loins stir ever so slightly. He tried to push her away again, this time more forcefully. "Stop!" He hissed.

His push caused her to stumble backwards a little but she didn't let it deter her. She stepped forward again straight away although this time she did not touch him. "Why will you not answer the question? That's the entire point of this evening."

"Miss Adler, you know exactly where we stand! I am your professor and you are my student. There is nothing more than that between us." He spat, his anger rising as his arousal mounted.

"Are you sure?" She pushed, keeping calm herself as she knew someone would have to. "Yet, you agreed to dinner. And yet, I'm still here." She said intensely.

"Well, perhaps you should leave." He hissed, his nose wrinkling.

"I told you that by the end of this evening I would accept whatever you decided and would not bother you again." She reminded him. She took another step forward so their chests were pressed together. "If I leave now, I leave for good, is that really what you want?"

He looked down at her, glaring. "Like you could stay away." He whispered darkly, his hands coming to her hips once more and pulling her against him.

She fought a smile at his actions. "I'd hate it. True. But I am a woman of my word." She told him.

"Do you ever just shut up?" He asked her quickly.

"Not often; part of my charm." She replied with a small smirk.

He rolled his eyes, "Well I'm about to make you." He spat, preparing to take one of the biggest risks of his life as he hastily decided to chuck his calculating, indifferent, and cold nature out the window, in exchange for for a much more human, much more base one.

Sherlock Holmes licked his lips quickly before leaning down and pressing his lips against hers urgently as his hands snaked up to cup her jaw as he kissed her with sheer force and...yes, need.


End file.
